Reasons for my Annoyance The Only Reason I Smile
by NOMNOMSUSHIBEAR
Summary: Shane Helms is trying to make his breakthrough. He feels unrecognized by TNA IMPACT! But what happens when he is instead sent to teach a young woman named Talia Madison  Velvet Sky  How to wrestle? Shane Helms/Velvet Sky. Read with caution. Mature content


The day was young as I left my house to go back on tour on the TNA brand of wrestling. I used to be in WWE, but I really couldn't get any freedom in that world. TNA was much more acceptable. The schedule was much lighter and there was only one place where you would actually film. The stadiums were much smaller and so was the pay, but everything just fit in a happy medium. WWE was of course the much bigger league, but I doubt Shane Helms was really into the big league. Not to say I wasn't ready, but WWE never really paid any attention to me. No, that's not in a hateful state of mind towards them. It's just how it was.

I got a call about two days ago. It was from the owner, Jeff Jarrett. He seemed tired and weary, but he wanted to give me an 'opportunity'. I attempted to ask what it was, but he only gave me shitty clues like I was fucking Sherlock Holmes or something. Sure, the books were cool, but I wasn't a smart guy. So I just agreed and hung up the phone, anxious for whatever the hell it might be.

Mondays just aren't my days. Last night I stayed over at Matt's house and he was having a famous Christmas Bash. He usually had it on Fridays, but he had to delay it for some odd reason I forget. So, basically I'm hammered and I feel like shit, and now I have to go deal with Mr. Big Daddy, or that's what Karen calls him all of the time. Yes, that is annoying as hell. Karen may have a nice ass and a nice rack, but that voice and 'gorgeous' personality sure subtract from it. Anyways, I have to deal with the Jarrett's and the magical pony adventure they have me set up on.

I swear to God, if they ask me to pick up their dry cleaning or be their lackey, I'm kicking everybody's ass in the damn building.

Fuck Mondays.

The drive from North Carolina to Orlando, Florida blew major monkey tits. I'll be in a better mood in about five years, I promise.

The drive was just lovely. I had a great view the entire way there. I saw an old woman gluing her false teeth in traffic, a teenager popping her zit, a man scratching his balls, and a woman was shaving her face.

The world's finest.

Okay, okay, I'm not this grumpy usually. I just really, really hate Mondays. You probably got that by now, but I'm not bitchy like this all of the time.

Florida didn't have its usual tropical-like weather of sunshine and a breeze. It was pouring down rain with grey clouds in the sky's midst. That didn't add any happy sprinkles to my mood cupcake, if you feel me.

I got out of the car, not really bothering to get on a jacket or anything. I looked better when I was wet anyways. Maybe I'll get lucky tonight, hehe. Nope, just kidding.

By the time I actually maneuvered my way into the TNA building, I was soaked from head to toe. I shook most of it off like a dog, which I got cussed out by a few of the fellow knockouts. It's always fun to piss them off.

I saw Jeff Hardy chilling with Christy Hemme, talking about one of his paintings and motorcross. I gave him a high five and went on my wet way to the office. I bowed my head and gave a silent prayer, 'God, do not let that bitch Karen Angle be in the room. I really don't like her.'

I must've prayed too late, because she was glaring at me right as I came in the doorway. Her ass was on the desk filing her French nails and her brown eyes were wide and glaring at me.

"You're fucking up my carpet! You're wet!" she squeaked.

"Well yeah. I can't shit out an umbrella when it's raining."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're right, I didn't get rained on. A girl came all over me. Now what the hell do you want?"

"Shane, chill," interrupted Jeff, spinning around in his chair as if he was some sort of mob boss or something. This isn't the Sopranos, Jeff. I hate to disappoint you. But, he was my boss in a sense of the word, so of course you couldn't cuss him out. There was however, nothing in the contract that said I couldn't fuck with his wife every now and then.

"What is this opportunity?" I ask, arching an eyebrow to look at him curiously.

"Well, I've set you up as a teacher."

"WHAT? A TEACHER? I can't teach my own ass to fart! How the hell am I going to be a teacher?"

"You're smart you know."

"I am not. Me and Forest Gump have a lot in common…like our IQ! I'm not a tutor."

Jeff rolled his eyes and put a hand through his weird blonde hair and looked at me. "I'm not asking you to teach anybody any curriculum. You have to train wrestlers. Or A wrestler."

"Me? Why the hell me? Can't you use Ric Flair or something? All he does is bitch from the sidelines anyways."

"Yeah, but he means more to the company."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Why the hell can't I be treated equally around here?

He must've read my look, "Shane, I didn't mean it like that. He's in a storyline and you're free a lot. You could train the newbie to be a top performer."

"So, I have to train this guy. Then what?"

"Guy…..I never said it was a guy."

"I'm teaching a WOMAN?"

Karen puts her hands on her hips, "What do you have against women?"

I snap at her, "Shut up liposuction I'll get to you in a minute!"

She pouted and gave Jeff a puppy dog face. I'm going to shoot that bitch, I swear. I ran my fingers through my hair. How the hell was I supposed to teach a woman dude moves? I could barely focus on my own. I was a good wrestler, but I didn't have near enough experience. What the hell did he expect me to do? Grow boobs and a vagina and learn my feminine side to wrestling?

Told you I hated Mondays.

"Wait, what the hell do I get in doing this?" I asked.

"A title shot."

"Which one?"

"X Division."

"Fuck that. Give me a TNA Championship title shot."

"How about no?"

"How about yes?"

"You aren't worthy."

"Whatever. Just give me a number one contender's match for the TNA Championship."

Jeff pursed his lips, but he lit a cigar and hauled Karen onto his lap. He nodded. I nodded back and wiped my feet on the floor-they had mud on them-just to piss off Karen.

"SHANE! QUIT MESSING UP THE FLOOR!"

"You want the floor clean? Bitch to Stanley Steamer, not me." I said, dragging my feet in order to mud up the carpets even more. I laughed at the scream of Karen's anger.

As I was walking, I looked around at the walls. There were a few posters put up, mainly supporting the big guys like Kurt Angle and AJ Styles. There was a promotional poster for the upcoming PPV 'Bound For Glory' and I was sure as hell going to watch it.

My mind shifted to the fact that I was going to tutor a woman in wrestling. I love women. They're great—confusing as hell, but great. It's just easier to throw around a dude like he isn't shit. Women seem so fragile. I doubt I'd be able to even hurt her.

I instantly felt my skull crack against someone else's, and the shock sent me reeling back to the floor. I got a bit of a thump on top of me, and when I regained some of my brain back, I looked and saw one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet.

I doubt I'd ever forget the way she looked. She had blonde hair with brown highlights, or was it brown hair with blonde highlights? Either way, it looked cute. She had dark brown wide eyes and full lips. She also had a perfect tan. Getting a quick glimpse of her body, she was medium in weight. Apparently, she must've fallen on top of me and now she was straddling me. She realized what the hell she was doing, and she got up—much to my sadness—and held out a hand for me to grab. I didn't take it. I mean, come on how embarrassing is it to have a chick yank you up from the ground?

I finally scrambled my way to my feet and shook my head. I finally gained some of my brain process back, and I could see her much better. She was beautiful, just like I thought she was. She was smirking at me. "Talia."

"Huh?"

"That's my name."

"Oh. I'm Shane."

"Cool. Alright, well I gotta go. Later, doll." She said, brushing right past me like I was nothing. Well Talia don't be so friendly towards me, it's kind of creeping me out a little bit! I growled. Why must the hot ones be so not nice?

I shook my head and continued my path to the script writer's office to pick up the script. Even though most of the time I didn't have any serious parts, I loved to read the scripts to keep up with what was happening tonight. I wouldn't be in this business for who knows how many months, so I wanted to savor this moment.

I wonder what she's going to be like. Pretty? Ugly? Smart? Idiot? Nice? Bitch? I had no idea. I was kind of getting obsessed with the idea I was in charge of someone else's wrestling brain for the time being. It was interesting, exciting, and scary all in one bowl of feelings. I didn't know if I was ready for this or not.

In fact, I'm pretty damn sure I'm not ready for this. What if I fucked up big time? I could cause her to do a sloppy move and injure her and another knockout. I could make her the dumbest knockout in the world. I probably wouldn't even be able to touch her in any form of violent way.

Besides, we may not even have the same fighting styles. We all know Jeff Jarrett is an absolute genius, so if I know him he would probably set a high flying type of guy like me with some macho girl who could do suplexes and piledrivers. Just what I would need.

I was so worried about meeting her. I wonder what she would think of me? Oh well, just another Monday, right?


End file.
